


The other Upside- Down

by AkkiTheWolf



Series: Star-drops [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Fix-it for season 3, Other, Post-Season/Series 03, Snippets, Spoilers for Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 21:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21004775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkkiTheWolf/pseuds/AkkiTheWolf
Summary: We all need this fix-it. Just admit it. Not so sure about Billy, but you will see.Implied/sort of SPOILERS for season 3, BEWARE!Morgue was never a place for good company. Eve less so if you were dead and cold in an ice box. The heavy door clicked softly and let in muted light from the hallway. It barely reached the stretcher in the middle, licking the edges of the metal and giving an oily look to the black plastic bag. Two figures came in, black from head to toe, only their faces wore some semblance of colour under the grim expressions. No one liked morgues.





	The other Upside- Down

**Author's Note:**

> I was heartbroken at the end of season 3. And I was thinking and thinking how could I fix this, this is what my mind came up with. I´ll leave it up to you to decide if it is a better or worse fate for Billy.
> 
> There are Russian sentences in the text, they are translated in the notes at the end, but I would like you to read them only after the end of the story. As I do not speak Russian very well (I´m only a begginer) I relied heavily on google translator, so any mistakes are it´s own but I will correct them if you point them out for me :D.
> 
> Enjoy this little fix-it story my lovelies.  
Akki out.

The parking place in front of the Star Court Mall was full of cars. People milling about, voices raised to be heard over the din of their surroundings. The red-blue lights of sirens were painting everything into surreal colours, distorting shapes, making everything seem far off. Not real. How could it be real? The shouting and orders were cut off by the sudden swish-swish-swish noise of the helicopter´s blades. The machine reluctantly lifting from the ground, the wind tearing leaves out of trees. A stretcher with a black body-bag was wheeled into one of the ambulance trucks. The EMTs hurrying, covering before the wind slashing at their bare faces. The doors shut loudly with a sharp bang! behind the stretcher and they left promptly. The crew not noticing an unassuming dark blue sedan following behind them.

Morgue was never a place for good company. Eve less so if you were dead and cold in an ice box. The heavy door clicked softly and let in muted light from the hallway. It barely reached the stretcher in the middle, licking the edges of the metal and giving an oily look to the black plastic bag. Two figures came in, black from head to toe, only their faces wore some semblance of colour under the grim expressions. No one liked morgues. The first moved towards the stretcher. A man, average height, average built, but with sharp nose and sharper eyes.

“Это он?“ He inclined his head, gaze moving from the bag to the second figure. The second looked around briefly, swiftly stepping towards a desk tucked near the corner on the left of the door. This one was thin like a twig and tall, a scraggly moustache adorning a crow-like face. He grabbed some papers from the table, pale eyes searching. He nodded to himself. Three long steps and he was near the bag, unzipping it. “Это наш друг.“ They both looked inside the bag. A young man, more boy than a man, was lying prone. Golden skin turned sickly blue and grey. A gaping wound marred his chest, deep and fatal. The ones in his sides hidden by the plastic of the bag.

“ты думаешь она сделает это?“ The Thin One asked sceptically. Sharp Eyes made a soft hmm sound, turned and opened the heavy door. He said something to the hallway. He stepped to the side, tensing visibly when another dark-clad man entered the room. It wasn´t the man that made him react this way. Spider-legs of fear were traveling up his spine, heart picked up rabbit´s pace. It was the young woman barely two steps behind the man that terrified him. Young and small, with short pale hair and blue eyes, hands wringing the light green sundress with white dots. She stopped at the same time the third man did, gaze glued to the floor. Goosebumps appeared on her skin, freckled nose scrunched when she registered the strong smell of antiseptic and death. She didn´t listen to the men talking, something, someone else was calling to her. She made hesitant steps towards the stretcher with a body bag containing the young man. The Thin One sneered when she brushed past him, almost jumping away. Sharp Eyes stopped speaking, watching intently. The Third Man came closer, standing behind her shoulder.

“ты можешь вернуть его?“ She tilted her head to the side when the Third spoke, not moving otherwise. Her eyes roamed over the dead body. She saw it all. The possibilities. The stinging regrets. The hurtful words. The sweet sins. The broken promises. The gentle smiles that could have been. The sneers that were. The pleas that went unanswered. The tears that were hidden. The forks in roads and decisions that lead to them. There was so much yet to see. It was all cut too soon. She reached out two small hands. Palms gently settling, right over the heart, left brushing the forehead. She inhaled a steadying breath.

“да.“ She whispered on a rush of air escaping her lungs. She wanted to do it softly, slowly. But life is rarely soft or slow, it´s a tidal wave that sweeps you in it´s wake and when you finally get your feet under you… You realize you have no idea where you ended up.

The room began shaking, the metal tools rattling, the lights outside the room in the hallway flickered spastically. The Thin One whined softly, hoping no one heard his pathetic fear filled voice. Sharp Eyes with Third Man were standing both unmoving like statues, bodies tense prepared for any outcome, hands inching towards the guns hidden beneath suit jackets. No sound left the young woman, her concentration absolute, a weak stream of blood started running from her nose, dripping on the black-oily surface of the bag. Suddenly she staggered, gasping softly, hands leaving the prone body. She blinked, as if waking up from a dream and turned woodenly, like a doll with its strings cut off, to the three figures occupying the room with her.

“сделано.“ The men looked at each other, then at the obvious corpse. The Thin One was gearing up for a tirade, taking in great lungful of air, face contorting into an ugly grimace. The Sharp Eyes´ face became blank, eyes even sharper glinting with anger. The Third one was standing stoically, waiting, but his fingers were tapping an impatient rhythm against his thigh. Only the young woman was almost serene, hands lightly clasped before her, gaze unwavering set on the young man´s face. When the tension was reaching its peak, a rattling cough made all of the men freeze on spot. A painful gasp, back arching and the young man´s eyes snapped open. He was staring at his mirror image. Or so he though for the first few seconds when the only thing that registered were his own blue eyes in a stranger´s face. Billy Hargrove was back and he was going to shake the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Russian translations:  
“Это он?“ That´s him?  
“Это наш друг.“ That´s our friend.  
“ты думаешь она сделает это?“ You think she can do it?  
“ты можешь вернуть его?“ Can you bring him back?  
“да.“ Yes.  
“сделано.“ It is done./Done.


End file.
